


i cannot get you out

by arachnistar



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arachnistar/pseuds/arachnistar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The months after Gwen's death are hard on Peter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i cannot get you out

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "In My Veins" by Andrew Belle and the speech is from the movie.

For a brief moment, he thinks he’s saved her. For a brief moment, relief fills his body and everything just feels good (not really, Harry is still Green Goblin, but Gwen is _safe_ ). For a brief moment, he is the winner.

The moment snaps and he notices how very still she is, how she just hangs there, how he has lost.

\--

The morning after, he convinces himself that it was all a dream. Convinces himself that Gwen is alive and well and most certainly not dead. That he can dial her up on his phone and just stay in bed talking to her for an eternity and make plans for dinner that night. That he can surprise her with a knock at her window and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. That life will go on as always.

The illusion lasts until he comes downstairs for breakfast and sees his aunt’s face. He breaks down in tears.

Aunt May doesn’t say anything; there is nothing to say to make it better and she knows that better than anyone. She just holds him and lets him cry.

\--

The local stations all celebrate the miraculous recovery of New York’s electricity.

They talk about the near-collision of two passenger planes and the return of radar and central control that allowed them to swerve at the last minute. They interview the survivors who talk: “it was the most terrifying moment of my life” and “it was a miracle, I tell you, a miracle.”

They talk about Harry Osborn gone mad and the subsequent takeover of Oscorp by Donald Menken. They talk about the disappointment of legacy, the fall into the dark, the curse of the family. They say “at least his father isn’t here to see this” as if Norman would really be upset.

One time they mention a victim. Peter sits up and listens as they talk about a local girl killed by Harry. They are wrong; the blame isn’t solely on the Green Goblin’s shoulders.

They mention Spider-Man, the hero who restored New York’s electricity and brought down the madman Harry Osborn. It disgusts Peter and he wants to yell that Gwen did it, Gwen told him how to modify the web-shooters, Gwen pushed the button to bring down Electro, Gwen died because of him.

Next time the news are on, he leaves the room.

\--

At the funeral, he stands there and stares at the gravestone, at the letters reading _Gwen Stacy_ , and thinks about failure and lives cut too short and all the things Gwen can never do again.

The city is safe, but Gwen is –

He can’t even think the word without feeling sick, without wanting to curl up tight and sob. He still wants to do that, wants to drop to the dirt in front of her gravestone and beg for her life back, but he stays standing.

Gwen will never stand again, will never laugh again, will never eat at her favorite Chinese restaurant again, will never cry again, will never –

It doesn’t feel worth it, New York for Gwen Stacy.

That wasn’t the choice, of course, they saved New York before Green Goblin arrived, but sometimes it feels like that, like being Spider-Man is what killed her.

\--

He throws his suit on the ground, a soft thump of fabric, and then his web-shooters at the wall. They make a dull twack and then a muffled thunk as they hit the ground. It satisfies nothing.

He considers burning the suit. It would feel good. It would feel like vengeance for Gwen’s death. It would feel… just as unsatisfying as the sound of web-shooters hitting a wall.

In the end, he stuffs it into the very back of his closet with his father’s briefcase.

Skeletons in the closet, that’s all they are now. Ghosts too, haunting his every waking moment even after he’s locked them away.

The city doesn’t need Spider-Man.

The city doesn’t need Peter Parker either.

\--

The first time he goes out walking without a destination, shooed out of the house by Aunt May for some fresh air, he keeps his head down and his earbuds in. He tries not to pay attention to the world around him.

For his effort, he almost crashes into a baby stroller (angry glares from the father pushing it), a posh businesswoman on her cellphone (not like she was paying much attention either), and a couple holding hands (laughing like nothing else in the world exists or matters).

He wants to throw up or cry or something when he steps out of their way. He also wants to tell them to treasure the time they have together because one day far too soon it’ll all be gone.

He doesn’t do any of the above, just continues on his wandering. He ends up at the cemetery and almost laughs at how she continues to pull him to her. As if nothing else exists.

\--

“I told you to stay away from her. If you had just done that, kept your promise like you should have, she’d still be alive.” Her father is there again, at the edge of Peter’s vision. He’s gotten more talkative lately, Peter’s own guilt-master.

“I know,” Peter murmurs and he does but he was a hero, he was Spider-Man, and heroism feels a lot like invincibility. Heroes save everyone – except when they don’t, except when they fail.

Spider-Man seems particularly good at failing.

“I’m sorry.”

But there is no one there, Gwen’s father always seems to disappear before the apology leaves Peter’s throat, and no amount of apologies will ever make it better anyway.

\--

He would do anything to bring her back, give up his powers, sacrifice his own life even, but it’s impossible.

The dead stay dead and the living continue on.

No exceptions.

\--

He doesn’t know what to do with her photographs.

Half the time, he grabs them and stuffs them into his desk drawer. Out of sight, out of mind, as the old phrase goes. It’s not true, of course, old phrases rarely are. She’s always on his mind and when the photographs are away too long, he starts to panic about forgetting.

The rest of the time, they are out, pinned to his walls or in frames. He stares at them, at how happy the photographs look, how happy the past looks, muses on how fast people can disappear. He runs fingers over Gwen’s face and murmurs apologies over and over again.

He isn’t sure which method is healthier and so he continues in an endless cycle.

\--

He walks to Gwen’s apartment and stands outside the door. His fist is poised to knock, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know why he’s here except that they’re grieving and he’s grieving and maybe it’s better to grieve together. It made sense on the walk over, but now…

He imagines her mother, husband and daughter gone because of Spider-Man. Because of _him_.

It’s enough to make him turn away and take the elevator back down.

He wouldn’t even know what to say. How to offer condolences when he’s breaking inside, when he’s the one to blame, when he can’t even talk about Gwen without everything hurting (everything hurts anyway).

They’ll be better off without him.

\--

Maybe in another universe, Gwen didn’t date him. Maybe she is in England, at Oxford, studying genetics. Maybe she meets someone nice, someone who won’t end her life prematurely. Maybe she marries him and they have children and she lives a very long life. Maybe she has a long, successful career as one of the world’s leading geneticists. Maybe she passes away quietly in her sleep at a ripe, old age.  

Maybe in another universe, there is no Spider-Man and he is happy alongside her.

\--

Sometimes he considers visiting Harry, Green Goblin, whoever he is right now. Punching him or demanding answers (why Gwen? why couldn’t it just be between them? why bring her into this?) or taking revenge or just talking about old times long gone.

They were friends once. The best of friends. They used to run and play games and sneak candy from the kitchen. They used to throw pillows at each other and pretend to save planets with lightsabers. They used to talk about the future as if they had all the time in the world.

But then of course there was moving and illness and Spider-Man and Green Goblin and Gwen.

He never does.

\--

He visits the cemetery often. He stands in front of Gwen’s grave and stares at the inscription and thinks about her.

It scares him that he can’t quite remember the way she moved, the exact way she rubbed her nose or the way she played with her hair. It scares him even more that he can’t quite remember what her laugh sounded like.

It scares him because he feels like he’s losing her bit by bit all over again.

\--

All the newspapers and local stations ask the same question: _Where is Spider-Man?_

There are all sorts of theories – some talk about the masked hero’s demise at the hands of some villain, some talk about severe injury, some talk about lack of appreciation motivating early retirement.

None of them get it right.

\--

Aunt May talks to him about moving on. About getting on with life because what else is there to do?

She knows, she understands it better than anyone else can, but Peter doesn’t know how to just get on with life. Not in the sense of truly living it anyway. All he can do is march on, one foot in front of the other, try not to drown, one day at a time.

Sometimes he wonders how Aunt May gets on with life but he’s always too scared to ask.

(what if she doesn’t? what if inside she’s just the same as he is? broken and sad and hollow? what if this is forever?).

\--

Months after her death, he finds a flash drive. He considers throwing it away – it still hurts too much to even think about her, even if she’s all he thinks about – but he can’t bring himself to do it. This is the last piece of Gwen he has and once upon a time, he promised to watch it. He intends to follow through with that promise.

He inserts it into his computer and opens the file. His vision blurs with tears as Gwen appears on his screen. He doesn’t press play right away, just stares at Gwen’s face, tracing her features over and over with his eyes.

This is the last piece of Gwen he has, the last ‘new’ thing he will ever hear her say, and he is afraid of the finality of that. In the end, he presses it just to hear her voice again.  

_“I know that we all think we’re immortal, we’re supposed to feel that way, we’re graduating. The future is and should be bright, but, like our brief four years in high school, what makes life valuable is that it doesn’t last forever, what makes it precious is that it ends. I know that now more than ever. And I say it today of all days to remind us that time is luck. So don’t waste it living someone else’s life, make yours count for something. Fight for what matters to you, no matter what. Because even if you fall short, what better way is there to live?”_

The words sink in, sink deep into places that haven’t felt light since she was hanging on a thread, and he feels something. She’s right. It hurts, it will always hurt, but that doesn’t mean stopping the fight.

If nothing else, he wants his life to count for her.

\--

It’s the news report on the television and Gwen’s speech, mostly Gwen’s speech really, that finally reaches him. It’s the sight of a mechanized man (rhino-man? when did New York get rhino-men? what else has New York gotten?) terrorizing people that finally spurs him to action. It’s the actions of a young boy in a Spidey costume that finally reminds him what Spider-Man is.

What Spider-Man stands for and what Spider-Man is needed for.

Not failure, not loss, not the things he has come to associate with Spider-Man, the things he has come to blame on Spider-Man.

With great power comes great responsibility.

And hope.


End file.
